


Snow Soldier - Winter Challenge

by Queenspuppet



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: All Innocent and Cute Till The Last Chapter and Then BAM - Smut, Connected Drabbles, F/M, Something Warm And Cozy For Winter, The Fluffiest Fluff I Have Ever Fluffed, Wintershock Winter Challenge Response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenspuppet/pseuds/Queenspuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Question: Who can melt the Winter Soldier? Answer: Darcy Lewis.<br/>And during winter too!</p><p>Rated T till the last drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snowmen / Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

> The Wintershock Winter Challenge had seven days so this little story has seven snippets. I'll post the challenge theme as the chapter titles.

“Darcy, knock it down. Right now.”

Bucky slowed, breathing puffing white in the cold air, before coming around the corner outside the Upstate Facility. Steve was using a tone he didn’t usually inflict upon civilians, especially not pretty young female civilians with dark curls and red lips that could bring traffic to a halt. He’d just come off the outdoor heated track that ran a two-mile loop around the property’s perimeter and was following a walkway cleared of snow back to the building when he heard the argument.

“Don’t you touch him” Darcy growled, somehow petulant, teasing, and firm all at once. “I’m making one of everybody.”

Bucky padded silently forward, peeking around the edge of the building. Steve stood with his arms crossed, calf deep in snow and without a jacket. He towered over the diminutive girl bundled head to toe in mismatched winter wear who stood guard in front of a snowman that was almost as tall as her. A snow man with a protruding foil wrapped branch for an arm. A foil arm with a pasted on red star.

“How do you think that’s going to make him feel?” Steve tried, gesturing to the arts and crafts attempt at recreating Bucky’s prosthetic.

“Better than if I’d given it a hobo beard barely disguising a surly scowl,” Darcy snapped back.

Snowflakes were dressing her braid in glimmer and her cheeks and nose were charmingly rosy. Resting behind her in the snow was several crates of accessories, including - from what Bucky could see - a red cape for Thor, a kid’s toy bow for Clint, and a folded american flag for Steve.

Bucky leaned down and packed together a pile of snow.

Darcy and Steve went silent, realizing they’d been caught, and Bucky could feel their combined stare as he rolled a growing ball of snow over to join Darcy’s Winter Soldier snowman. Darcy packed together a slightly smaller ball and helped Bucky lift it up to stack on his. He finished his third, resting it carefully at the top.

“Bucky,” Steve murmured.

“Give me a minute, Rogers,” Bucky said, voice a little rough from the run and general disuse.

He dug into Darcy’s collection of odds and ends and pulled out a small squeeze-bottle of food dye.

“For Nat’s hair,” Darcy said quietly.

Bucky glanced at her. She seemed ill at ease, like now that she was faced with him she was less certain of his response.

He painted a set of thick red lips on his fresh snowman - snowgirl - and then plucked Darcy’s hat off her head and set it down on his creation.

Darcy’s smile spread across her face and Steve huffed behind them both.

Darcy untwisted a long, colorful, scarf from around her neck and arranged it on Bucky’s snowgirl.

“What’dya think?” Bucky asked.

Darcy stepped back and listed her head to the side while she studied.

“You forgot my boobs,” she said.

“Don’t like to work without good reference material,” he said, some old half-forgotten part of him taking over.

“Well I’ve lost my hat and my ears are getting cold,” she said while grinning, “so why don’t we go inside for hot chocolate and I’ll give you a better view?”

Steve made a choking sound, throwing his hands up and walking quickly away from them.


	2. Hot Chocolate / Peppermint

By the time they’d made it inside and Darcy’d pulled cocoa and sugar and milk on to the counter, Bucky had lost the sure footing he’d had in the snow. Darcy peeled off a few layers, a coat and an oversized cardigan along with some wooly accessories. It left her in a long button down, one of those plaid things that were meant to look like a man’s flannel but had clearly been tailored with a woman’s curves in mind, and painted on black pants. Natasha called them ‘leggings’ when Bucky asked why girls all seemed to be walking around in tights. Whatever they were called, Bucky was pretty sure they were the best thing to come out of the modern era. Especially on a girl like Darcy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a pair of thighs that looked like a better fit for his hips. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to be thinking that yet.

Darcy was stirring the syrup on the stove in silence and Bucky sat across the counter from her trying to decide if the silence was comfortable or stilted. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t a good sign if he was wondering.

“Milk’s okay, right?” Darcy asked.

Bucky was studying every detail of her. Her voice was easy and smooth, no notes of stress. Her pulse was steady. She glanced up from her work and her face was relaxed, almost smiling but not quite. In his experience - all of his experiences, even the ones that weren’t quite his anymore - almost smiling was a better gauge of feeling comfortable than smiling.

“Milk’s fine,” he said.

He really wanted her to be comfortable.

“Normally I’m not that into whole milk, but with hot chocolate it seems like a crime to skimp,” she said. “Doesn’t taste the same, anyway.”

She didn’t use measuring instruments. She’d made this before.

“I’m a little rusty,” Bucky said, unprompted. He hadn’t given himself permission to speak the words but they came out all the same.

Darcy’s brow furrowed and she paused her stirring, milk poised to pour. She looked at his prosthetic and he twitched, tucking it behind his side.

“No, I mean, at this,” he gestured between them. “At talking with…with-” Don’t say ‘dames,’ don’t say ‘dames.’ Wilson would never let him live it down. “With beautiful women,” he finished.

Darcy blushed and stared blankly down at her half finished chocolate for a moment.

“Oh, I don’t know, Barnes,” she said, her voice ticked up a note - could be stress or pleasure - then she looked up and beamed at him. “You’re doing alright so far.”

“Used to be better,” he said.

Darcy poured the rest of the milk in and went back to stirring. “Yeah, well. Women have come a long way since then. We can handle a little shyness and awkwardness. Can you get the peppermint sticks out of the pantry while I pour our mugs? I think I left them on the second shelf up.”

Happy for a mission, however small, Bucky hopped off the stool and went to find his girl - no, his woman. No, her own woman, said Natasha’s voice in his head…

He went to find the peppermint sticks.

They were the soft kind that melted in your mouth and had cost pennies for bags as a kid.

Darcy put one in each of their mugs and led him over to the couch in front of her television.

“Let’s see if you remember what to do in this situation,” she said, sitting down and patting the space next to her.

He sat, grateful she’d arranged it so she was on his right rather than against his prosthetic, and lifted his arm to rest over her shoulders. She smiled and leaned in to him.

“See, not too rusty after all,” she said.

She sipped her cocoa and grabbed the remote to find them something to watch. Bucky focused on relaxing, easing into the cushions behind him, spreading his legs out, letting his arm curl around her, his hand cupping her shoulder. He looked down at her to see how she was doing and realized that she’d accidentally given him that view she’d mentioned outside right down the open buttons of her shirt. Pale skin and deep shadows and-

She glanced back from the screen and caught his dazed expression just in time to smirk.

Okay. Okay. Maybe not accidentally, then.

Christ, he felt rusty.


	3. Ice Skating / Winter Sports

“I did not think you would be this bad at this,” Darcy mused.

Bucky was grateful, for the moment, to be face planted against the ice so that Darcy wouldn’t see his face heat in embarrassment. He could always blame it on the cold, he supposed.

He and Darcy had been flirting for a couple weeks now, or rather Darcy had been helping him flirt with her, and he’d felt like it was time to make a stronger overture than simply finding reasons to bump into her throughout the day. Sam had suggested ice skating so he could hold her hand or her waist while she got her footing. Bucky hadn’t thought it would be hard to ice skate. He was a super soldier. But the Winter Soldier hadn’t been trained for grace, and Sam hadn’t known that Darcy grew up in Minnesota.

With three quick slices across the lake Darcy was at his side, one toe pick buried in the smooth surface so she could balance enough to try and help pull him up. His feet skidded and slipped underneath him until he managed to tip toe his way up, trying not to lean too heavily against her.

“It’s the arm,” he said. Because when in doubt, he liked to blame the prosthetic.

“Uh huh,” Darcy said doubtfully, sneaking underneath said arm to rest it over her shoulders. “Maybe we should let Steve know so you can get more balance practice in.”

“Huh - hey, wait a sec-” The last thing he needed was Steve, and then of course Sam and Clint and Natasha and the rest, on his case about balance in training. Or on his case about trying to take a pretty girl out for ice skating and utterly failing to manage the sport itself.

“I mean, you’re called the _Winter_ Soldier, you’d think they taught you how to survive in winter,” Darcy continued.

Bucky swallowed down a long explanation of the Cold War metaphor that he’d been force fed for forty years and simply rolled his eyes.

“Not sure ice skating is a survival skill, doll,” he said.

“Do you know how many middle school birthday parties at ice rinks I had to sludge through? Never mind girl scouts and school outings,” Darcy ranted, gently dragging Bucky’s wobbling ankles back to the pond’s shore. “Being able to skate circles around pre-teen boys and gossipy queen-bees is definitely a survival skill. Anyway, come on, I’ve got a better plan for our day.”

 

Sam had stupidly suggested that a snowball fight consisting of Girls vs. Boys was just plain unfair. Which would have been true except the implication was it would have been unfair to the ladies. Even Steve knew better than to throw a gauntlet that big.

Pairing that with the fact that Maria Hill was upstate for the weekend, Jane had run track in college, and Helen Cho was the pitcher for her high school soft ball team? Oh, and Wanda could telepathically throw two dozen snow balls at once?

Yeah.

The guys were toast.

Vision had actually declared that gender was fluid halfway through the battle and switched sides.

Natasha and Maria had pulled Sam out of the air with scarf lassos and turned him into a human snow man before an hour was up. Tony was playing dead with a thermos of hot toddy underneath a fir tree. Thor was batting Jane’s misfired ammo out of the air with Mjolnir and the two looked inches away from calling a truce and heading inside. Clint was probably just hiding.

Steve streaked past him wearing an enormous grin, pursued by Helen Cho who was launching one snow ball after another out of a laundry basket and cursing like a Howling Commando. Bucky wrestled the basket out from under her arm before she could nail him with her cargo. Then he took off, hunting.

Darcy was by far the weak link of the girl’s team in terms of her attack, although he’d heard her from across the field shouting orders like a commander. He found her hiding behind a snow drift, compacting snow into perfect orbs between her mittened hands, the knees of her jeans soaked with snow where she was kneeling. He launched himself over the drift with a leap, dumping Cho’s basket of snow balls over Darcy’s head. Darcy shrieked as white exploded around her in bright sparkling puffs. Bucky landed on top of her, carefully straddling her lap so he didn’t crush her. Her screams turned into gasping giggles as she squirmed distractingly underneath him, trying to shake snow out of her collar and off her face.

“I accept your surrender,” Bucky announced.

Darcy laughed and fell back against the snow drift, shivering underneath him. He froze for a moment, taken in by the sight of her hair spread out against the snow - the same white as the pillows on his bed - and the bitten red of her lips. Then his head cleared and he moved to let her up. Her hands scrabbled for a grip on the front of his jacket and she held him still.

“The terms of surrender require a kiss,” she said, voice still breathy with laughter.

“Don’t remember that in the rules,” he said, his idiot mouth working ahead of his brain.

“It’s time to kiss me, Bucky,” she said, eyes patient and mouth smiling.

He was not stupid enough to make her repeat that.

She was waiting for him, reclining in the drift, as he leaned down to brush his nose softly against hers. Her breath was slightly minty, ghosting against his mouth in little clouds as he braced himself over her with his prosthetic and shimmied his glove off into the snow. Her face was soft and cool under his touch and her cheek leaned in, tilting her head invitingly, chin lifting as she tried to catch his lips with hers. He waited for her to look up - her eyes were narrowed in impatience, pupils full and black - and then let his fall shut as he kissed her.

Her lips were already parted under his and her sigh vibrated under his thumb where it rested over the pulse fluttering at her neck. He licked at her top lip, sipping at the taste of her - the mint and something salty and tannic like a dark and bitter wine. She arched under him, fists slipping in her mittens as she tried to get a better grip on his coat to pull him tight against her. His heartbeat was rushing loudly in his ears as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth to worry it gently. She moaned and he was halfway to pressing his hips into hers, his chest down to feel her breasts through their too thick layers of wool, when a throat cleared behind them.

“Traitor,” Natasha said fondly and then four wet smacks of snow hit Bucky’s back. “Girls win. Time for dinner.”

Bucky sat up to growl at Natasha but Darcy beat him to it. “I will put blue food coloring in your shampoo if you do not walk away this second.”

Natasha scoffed but wandered off.

Bucky looked back down, smug at Darcy’s swollen lips and glazed expression. He leaned back down for one long chaste press of his lips against hers, reveling at the way her body softened under him and she chased his mouth with hers as he pulled back again.

“We don’t go inside, Thor will eat all the crab rangoon,” he warned.

“Damnit,” Darcy huffed and then sat up, grimacing and twisting in place. “Next time you kiss me, I want somewhere warm and without snow melting down my back.”

“It’s a date,” he said, and lifted her up from the snowdrift, pulling one mitten off so he could take her hand in his as he walked them back inside.


	4. Hats / Mittens / Winter Wear

“Oh my god, winter, whyyy?” Darcy whimpered against his mouth as she made an accidental attempt to strangle Bucky with his own scarf while kissing him.

Bucky laughed through the light choking and batted Darcy’s hands away, leaning back out of the reach of her altogether too-tempting mouth.

“Slow down, doll,” he said, untwisting his scarf from around his throat and throwing it to hang from the hooks by his door. “There’s no rush.”

“There is rush,” Darcy insisted, wide eyes gazing up at him, lips parted in a pant. “There is super hunky boyfriend amounts of rush.”

He grinned and tugged his gloves off, setting them down on his side table and then turning back to help Darcy de-accessorize from their trip through the blizzard to pick up microwave popcorn and s’more ingredients in town. It had seemed like a good idea to get snacks for their movie date night until they were driving back and Darcy had revealed her ultimate plan to get to ‘third base’ while watching Field of Dreams. After explaining where exactly ‘third base’ was she’d had to talk him down from pulling the car over and finding it on the side of the road in a snow storm.

“I hate layers, layers are the worst,” Darcy said, while doing a magnificent job of making the act of taking her coat off an insurmountable struggle.

“You love layers,” Bucky reminded her, managing to unbutton his coat _before_ trying to get his arms out of the sleeves. “You were just telling Tony about the magic of layers the other day.”

“Help,” Darcy said in a very small voice, one arm free while the other was folded in her sleeve and her coat hung halfway down her hips, still buttoned.

Bucky tried very hard not to laugh.

He failed, but he did get her coat off before she leaped up, arms twining around his neck and legs catching his hips. His prosthetic braced her up before she could slip back down and she hummed happily, kissing a line up his jaw before nibbling gently on his ear lobe. He pulled her hips against his reflexively, grunting, before trying to lean back again.

“Still too many layers,” Darcy breathed. She made her point by arching against him, sensation dulled through sweaters and thermal shirts and heavy pants over long-johns.

“You said you wanted the movie on,” Bucky said.

“Whose side are you on, anyways?” Darcy huffed. “FRIDAY, queue up my Netflix please.”

His television clicked on in the background. She wiggled down out of his arms, rolling her eyes as they chased her waist to keep her close.

“I can’t take clothes off while attached to you,” she explained.

Actually, he was pretty sure she could with a little bit of his help but his thoughts were still kind of spinning around and she was having less trouble stripping out of her sweater than her coat so he left her to it.

“Go make popcorn,” Darcy said, dropping her sweater onto his kitchen table as she sashayed away from him to the couch. “I’ll be waiting in my t-shirt and leggings.”

In his haste to catch up he ended up tangled in his own sweater, grocery bag clogging his sleeve, face smothered in wool. Darcy just laughed.


	5. Cold / Sickness

Bucky leaned against the door frame of Darcy’s bedroom in Jane and Thor’s suite and listened to Darcy sniffling from the other side.

“Lemme in, doll,” he coaxed.

“Can’t. I’m toxic,” she whined, punctuating the claim with a sound that was somewhere between heavy machinery operating and elephants communicating.

“I’m immune,” he said.

“Bucky,” she sighed. “I’m hideous and I don’t want my preternaturally attractive boyfriend staring at my faucet nose.”

He stifled a laugh and tried a different approach. “I brought a family sized serving of miso soup and your weight in maki rolls.”

Darcy was quiet for a moment. “Will you promise to close your eyes and not look at me?”

“No,” Bucky said. “But I promise to let you have all the wasabi and ginger. And I got extra.”

“Who said I’d share in the first place?” Darcy asked, swinging the door open.

Her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red and her nose looked raw and abused against her pale skin. She’d piled her hair in a mess on the top of her head and was wearing a flannel night gown over sweatpants and fuzzy robot slippers.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Bucky said, leaning down press a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’re a-game is for naught, buddy,” Darcy grumbled, stumbling back to the bed and burrowing under her blankets. “I’m too pitiful to be wooed.”

“I come bearing gifts from the science department,” Bucky said, lifting the basket full of teas from Bruce, vitamins and medicine and soup from Jane and… “Tony said some of this is ‘homemade’ so, you know, fair warning.”

Darcy snorted and then sneezed and blew her nose in short procession, wincing as the tissue rubbed against her sore skin. Bucky set the basket down on the bed next to her and dug out a little tube of Aquaphor. Darcy grunted in thanks as he passed it to her.

“You want me to make some of this tea?” he asked.

Darcy sighed and fell back against her pillows, eyes watering. “Yes,” she said softly. “And I promise to not be so mean when you come back in.”

Bucky set the bag of food in her lap and left another kiss against her forehead - which was warm, he’d make her take something once she’d gotten some food in her.

“Drink your soup and when I come back I’ll tell you about trying to take care of a sickly little trouble maker named Steve Rogers prior to the popularization of penicillin,” he said.

“Thanks, Bucky,” she said as he walked to the door.

“Happy to do be here, doll,” he said. And it was true, it was good to feel needed and it was familiar to take care of stubborn loved ones. The kettle was just getting ready to whistle when it clicked in his brain, he did love Darcy. Or he was very near to it, at least. And love felt a little like panic if the too heavy beat of his heart was anything to judge by.

He’d been in a fog of _mission_ and _Asset_ and wondering who he was for so long that he’d barely seen Darcy in the periphery until she was right there, smiling and laughing at him. And she made everything so _easy_. It almost felt like a trap he should be trying to escape from.

“Can you put honey in my tea?” Darcy called pleadingly from her room.

“Course I can,” he said as the spinning top of nerves settled in his gut. He’d already put honey in the mug, and cut a lemon slice to help soothe her throat.

Easy was good, he reminded himself. Easy was a real nice change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There rest will be up within today or tomorrow. I wanted to finish posting this to tumblr first (queenspuppetwriting there, come say hi!) but I live out in the country where they're still rationing our internet and tumblr sucks me dry super fast. 
> 
> Comments are love!


	6. Winter Night Sky / Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme got gently pushed to the side on this one. Whoops!

Bucky bundled Darcy closer to him, drawing the blanket they were wrapped up in close against her neck while she stared dazedly at the fire.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled.

It was after one in the morning and the third time she’d made the request, which was fine since he wasn’t in any rush either - not with Darcy warm and soft against him, half asleep.

Winter had granted a reprieve and took a few days off from the freezing temperatures and buckets of falling snow. Jane had declared that the unseasonably warm night - nearly forty degrees - called for star gazing. Darcy said it called for a bonfire and the two were combined. Clint and Sam were competing for most ridiculous arrangement of logs, causing showers of red sparks to fly up into the sky every few minutes like flocks of birds. Natasha was glaring at the fire, which was blowing smoke at her no matter how many times she moved her chair. Wanda and Vision had their heads bowed toward each other in whispers and Steve was showing Helen Cho his sketchbook, while she talked about her feelings on the degradation of technical medical drawings through history.

Darcy’s nose nuzzled against Bucky’s neck, making him twitch with the chill.

“I love the way people never want to leave a bonfire,” she whispered. “It’s primal. We just need some dogs and meat cooking now. For our tribe.”

He laughed under his breath and buried his own nose in the wool of her hat, breathing in the smell of sweet smoke and Darcy’s fruity shampoo.

“You cold?” he asked.

“Just a little,” she said. “I’m more or less ready to go inside and get you naked, I just don’t want to move yet.”

“Not sure how well that bodes for getting me naked, doll, but I’ll carry you inside if it helps.”

“Yeah you’re a real team player,” she said, fighting a grin.She twisted to wrap her arms around his neck. “Okay. Carry me like a princess.”

The others waved them off as Bucky scooped Darcy up in his arms and carried her up to the residential entrance. He took them to his suite because Thor was in town and even if it takes the big guy most of the night to coax Jane back inside, it’ll get loud before morning. Also, if he had a nightmare - rare as they are these days - he comes down faster in his own space. Darcy seemed content to be carried right through the apartment to the bedroom, and the fact that she wasn’t trying to peel his clothes off and leave hickeys on his neck meant she was probably too tired to make good on her promise of nudity. Which was alright, actually. Having Darcy flushed and soft and begging around him was one of the best feelings he knew, but having her totally relaxed and sound asleep against his chest was a really close second.

He set her down on the bed and she kicked off her boots off and shed her layers into a pile on the floor.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, watching the mess grow around the edge of his bed.

She rolled her eyes and shimmied out of her jeans, dropping them with a flourish before wiggling under his covers.

Sam said Army habits don’t die, so Bucky credits this for why he always strips and then folds his clothes if he isn’t facing a naked Darcy. He went ahead and picked up her clothes off the floor and neatly stacked them next to his.

By the time he made it back to the bed Darcy’s eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out. He slipped in next to her and brushed a kiss against her slack cheek.

“Love you, doll.”

Darcy sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide. “Wait, wuh??”

Shit. He did not mean to say that. “I…uh, love you…?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a question?”

“No! No. I do.” He swallowed and met her eyes, hand searching for hers in the blanket and taking it tightly. “I love you, Darcy.”

She moved faster than he ever knew she could and suddenly his lap was full of still chilly legs and squirming curves. His hands happily found a grip on her ass and pulled her closer as she licked her way into his mouth, tongue teasing his out so she can suck on it while making the same delighted little squeaks at the back of her throat as when his face was buried between her thighs.

Her mouth released his with a ‘pop’ and she leaned back to grin at him.

“I love you too, you goober,” she said, hands wrestling with the hem of his shirt where it was caught against them. She tugged it over his head like she was trying to break his neck. “Now take off your pants so I can make sweet, sweet love to you,” she ordered.

Bucky laughed for the twenty seconds it took Darcy to get his underwear off without his help and then he groaned and fell back against the pillows in cooperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for the lovely response already! It's super appreciated. Just one left for these cotton balls of fluff love birds.
> 
> I love hearing from all of you, so feel free to comment!


	7. Blizzard / Snowed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm so at first this was just gonna be fluff. And then it was gonna be fluff and smut. And then it was just SMUT. So, happy reading!
> 
> Spotted: Those first two lines of dialogue are lifted from the movie Charade, Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant respectively. <3

“How do you shave in there?” Darcy asked and then pressed a kiss into the dimple on his chin.

They were on the couch together, still barely joined after a bout of lazy morning sex after breakfast, with a blanket draped over Darcy’s back to keep out any stray drafts. Everything outside the window was whiteness, bright and solid with falling snow, giving permission to any inclination they had to call the day a wash.

“Very carefully,” he answered, nipping at her lips before she pulled away. “How do you make those little swoopy lines on your eyelids?”

“I sold my soul to the Devil,” Darcy said, all sobriety.

Bucky snorted and then tried to stifle the sound but it was too late, Darcy was already giving him that fond, amused look. Instead he distracted her with a stripe of wet kisses along her bare shoulder. She sighed, leaning into him, breasts soft and sticking pleasantly to the thin layer of sweat on his chest. He tapped a pattern up her spine with his fingertips.

“We gettin’ dressed today, doll?” He asked. He had a vote. It was ‘No.’

“Are you bored, soldier?” Darcy sucked a mark into the skin below his left ear.

He felt the answering twitch from where he was still buried inside her was answer enough, but just in case…

“Unhf-” Darcy grunted as Bucky lifted and flipped them, spreading his weight over top of her on the couch cushions. Her hips rolled and her legs knotted at the base of his spine.

“Bored is for the boring, pretty girl,” he said, propping himself up on his palms and bucking experimentally.

“James,” Darcy whimpered, making his heart stutter - she saved his given name for special occasions. “Fuck, yesss. Please, baby.”

Bucky shifted on the couch so he could kneel, pulling Darcy forward by her hips and making her eyes slam shut as her back arched, presenting perfectly for him. He found the slowest rhythm of press and retreat he could stand, and bent to trace circles around her nipples - all pretty and perky like hard candy, his favorite kind.

“Goddamn-it, Barnes, you feel so good,” Darcy murmured, digging her fingers into his hair so she could pull him in tighter.

He bit, very gently, at the edges of one nipple making her cry out and rut her hips against his.

“Patience,” he said, licking a stripe up her breast bone.

“Fuck patience,” Darcy groaned, twisting against the grip of his hands on her thighs, holding her in place for his gentle thrusts. “I know you can go all day.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. He moved her hips in closer to him, rolling her clit against his pelvic bone and watching the blush grow across Darcy’s chest. “But I gotta be careful with you, doll. You wanna make love all day, we gotta take it slow.”

“Bucky,” Darcy gritted out between pants. “Honey, I don’t give a shit about making love, I want you to fuck me.”

“Same thing with us,” he said shrugging and added enough pressure to make Darcy’s mouth fall open in a long moan before she could argue with him again. He knew his pretty girl, she didn’t give up a fight till she couldn’t think straight.

“Kiss me, kiss me,” Darcy chanted. Her hands grappled for his arms to pull him close and he obliged, tongue working into her mouth in a rough imitation of the friction he was denying her father down.

Her hands held his face to hers tightly, fighting for some fraction of control in the kiss, teeth scraping and bumping as she gasped and growled into his mouth. Bucky tilted her hips in his hands so the head of his cock could rub against her sweet spot inside. With a handful of soft twists Darcy was sobbing into the kiss and Bucky released her hips so he could wrap his arms around her back and hold her close to him as she trembled and shattered. He lost his finesse at the clutch of her grasping onto every part of him, pulling him into a hypnotism so deep he forgot his promise of ‘gentle’ and worked himself hard and quick into her heat. He chased her pleasure with his while she smattered open mouthed kisses across his arching neck.

“Oh god, yes, Bucky,” Darcy whimpered, hands snapping to his ass in some small effort to draw him in deeper.

“Doll,” he groaned. He could feel her still fluttering around him and knew that if he could hold out he could draw another orgasm from her before falling prey himself. “Be my good girl,” he growled into her ear. “Come on, Darcy. I know you can.”

“Jesus,” Darcy hissed, bracing her heels against the couch and arching up to meet the slap of his hips. Bucky leaned back on his hands again so they could both watch him pistoning between her soft thighs, thick and slick and dark with arousal. “Oh Jesus, James.”

“Love you,” he grunted, catching her eyes. He was about to fall. He could feel his balls tighten and the tugging of the rope of pleasure pulling at his spine.

Darcy’s feet slipped as she came again, her nails digging little arches into the skin of his ass, but she kept hold of his stare as a garbled mess of endearments and expletives fell from her lips. Bucky’s arms went loose and his hips slammed too hard and without rhythm as the rope in him snapped and his body lost it’s grounding in an electric crackle of sensation. Darcy pulled him flush against her and together they shuddered in the aftermath, lips barely managing to meet in half-kisses.

A long, tender silence, broken with hums and hisses as they separated and Bucky tucked Darcy against his side between him and the back of the couch was interrupted by Darcy’s phone blaring trumpets at them from the coffee table.

“Thor,” Bucky said, after half-heartedly leaning forward to check the screen.

“What’s he want?” Darcy asked. She was nuzzling at his collarbone and Bucky tugged the blanket up from where they’d abandoned it to the floor to cover her hips before she got cold. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes as he picked up her phone and pulled up the message.

“He says everyone’s gonna order food and watch a movie,” Bucky relayed.

“Tell him we’re snowed in.”

“Darcy, everyone’s snowed in. We all live in the same building.”

“Fine then tell him I plan on keeping you naked all day as my personal orgasm delivery boy, I don’t care,” Darcy said.

Bucky texted Thor ‘snowed in’ and hoped the Thunder God didn’t get too curious.

“Gimme fifteen minutes,” Darcy mumbled, half-way into a nap. “Not done with you, yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this flufftastic collection of Bucky/Darcy dorky love fest scenes! Please comment, they feed me.


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